Next time you try to smell an orchid, just remember the copious amounts of insect ejaculate that might be swimmin' around in there, ready to latch on to your nose hairs and attempt to impregnate your BRAIN, then causing you to start watching "Keeping Up with the Kardashians".

Not that most orchids really smell, I'm just saying,
you were warned.

By the way, maybe it's just me, or the fact that I've been working in a casting office for the past week, but I think this says a lot about attempting to date in general (and especially in L.A.) and also explains Daisy from ROCK OF LOVE (just replace "orchids" with "plastic boobs"):

Male pollinators can prefer orchids (plastic boobs) to real females, prematurely end a copulation with a real female to visit an orchid (plastic boobs), or be unable to find real female mates among false orchid signals (plastic boobs).

I think Prospective Mates should send half the women out here a nice big bouquet of bug spooge. Not that they could smell it anyway through their reconstructed Barbie noses...

Labels: airing the orchid